


Sola fide

by katieh28



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Domestic Violence, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, everyone is human
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-04 14:06:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5336837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katieh28/pseuds/katieh28
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek was a police officer. He did his job, and he went home, and he did alright.<br/>Life was okay.<br/>And then one day, one call, and one very hyperactive boy came along and changed everything.<br/>Derek didn't know how he felt about it, but whatever it was, he was along for the ride.<br/>Wherever it would take him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"You should see the other guy."

Derek sighed.

He hated this.

Sometimes, he really hated his job.

Not that there weren't some great perks to being a cop. Okay, well, there was only one, and that was the satisfaction of bringing the bad guy to justice. And that was great and all, but sometimes even the rush of catching a criminal didn't outweigh all of the awful day to day stuff he had to deal with. Muggings. Beatings. Drug addicts. And now this. This was the worst scenario of all, in his opinion.

There was nothing Derek Hale hated more than being called to the scene of a "domestic dispute".

Except it was never really just a "dispute", was it?

No, that would be too easy.

It was always the same.

Two drunk assholes trying to claw each other's eyes out. A man chasing his wife around the yard naked or a woman hitting her husband in the face with a frying pan.

They'd probably go unnoticed if it wasn't for that one ballsy neighbor who had just had enough of their screaming and finally had the guts to call the police.

And than Derek would come, pull them off of each other kicking and screaming, and that would be the end of it.

Yup, that was how it always went.

Except for this time.

This time was different.

And it wasn't just because this time it was two men. That didn't bother him.

It's because one of the men, the one he's currently staring at, is well...possibly the most attractive man he had ever seen.

He won't say beautiful. But maybe as close to beautiful as a man could be.

He had these strange colored eyes...not brown, but not hazel. Almost golden brown. And this funny upturned nose. And he had this perfectly shaped mouth, and these strangely captivating freckles, and this annoyingly thick dark hair.

Like he said. Beautiful. Or....attractive. Right.

And there they were. Staring. Neither one moving or speaking for a long time.

The boy had made the first move.

_"You should see the other guy."_

It was meant as a joke, but Derek just didn't find it funny.

"I saw the other guy. He looked fine. You don't."

And it was the truth. The other guy, as he called him, was the unfairly attractive guy's boyfriend. He was big, muscular, with a blonde buzz cut and piercing blue eyes. Barely a scratch on him.

This kid, though. He had obviously gotten the worst of it.

There was an already large purplish bruise on his cheek, and a deep bleeding gash right above his eyebrow. His arms were bruised, too, one on each side. There were no mistaking those marks. Someone had held him down, and they had pinned him hard.

To say Derek didn't like this would be a vast understatement.

Derek expected the kid to get angry and retaliate, but he was calm when he spoke.

"We fight sometimes. Sometimes I win, sometimes I lose," he said. "So don't get all "domestic violence" on me, okay?"

Every bone in Derek's body was screaming bullshit.

This was the problem with same gender abuse.

People think if it's two men, it's just a fight. Even if one of them is seriously injured. Even if one of the men could obviously kill the other if he wanted to.

If two women beat each other, and one clearly overpowers the other, it's just a fight. A cat fight, even. No big deal.

If a man fights a woman, the man is automatically thrown in jail.

Derek wonders who the Hell came up with this system.

Because that monster clearly had at least 30 pounds on this poor kid, but they're both men so there's nothing much anyone can do.

Derek doesn't bring it up. 

Instead he says, "It sounds like this has happened before."

The kid snorts a bitter laugh. "Yeah. You could say that."

"Does he usually hurt you?" Derek asked. It breaks his heart to even ask.

"Like I said. Sometimes I beat him, sometimes I don't. It depends. Today he snuck up on me, the bastard. Next time, though, officer...you'll see. I've been practicing my jujitsu. I bought some nunchucks. It'll be so awesome you won't even be able to arrest me." 

Derek looked up to see the boy's lips curled into a strange smile. Like he was amused.

Did he think this was _funny_?

Derek resisted the urge to slap him.

"I don't want there to be a next time."

The kid smirked again. "Oh, come on. I'm sure you've had your fair share of lovers quarrels."

Yup. He actually said 'lovers quarrels.'

"I have," he admitted. "But the difference is that mine don't get physical."

"Oh, so you've never slapped your girlfriend, not even once? Yeah, okay, sure."

And suddenly Derek is fuming because this kid doesn't even know that non-abusive relationships are possible and the world really isn't fair.

"No. As a matter of fact, I haven't."

"Okay, well, sure, 'cause you're a police officer and all that. But the rest of the world can't be as perfect as you, you know."

Derek wants to scream. 

This kid thinks what happened right here is perfectly normal. He thinks this is just a part of life. That it's no big deal and that it's not just going to get worse and worse.

His golden brown eyes focus on Derek's for a moment, and despite his litany of sarcastic answers he's just got this strange sweetness about him. Derek wants to throw up. Maybe punch a wall.

"Are you absolutely sure you don't want to come down to the station with us and make a statement?"

"Absolutely 100% certain, my friend."

Derek needed to switch careers. Now.

He could be anything. He could be a teacher, he could be a baker. Baker sounded good. Fuck this shit.

"Okay. Let's get you out to the paramedics so they can take a look at you."

"Not necessary, officer. I'm feeling better already." 

"That might need stitches," Derek said, gesturing to the gash above his eye. It had stopped bleeding finally, but it still looked nasty. It could get infected, Derek thought, and for whatever reason he actually cared.

The kid made a face. "Fine. But only so you'll stop harassing me."

Derek was about to take him outside to the paramedics when he noticed the boy had frozen in place. He traced his eyes to see that they were focused on his boyfriend, who was currently eyeing him viciously, sneering as if to say he had won. Asshole.

The kid returned him a glare much too dark for his beautiful eyes and then turned to Derek, a huge, ridiculous grin plastered on his face.

"I'm sorry, I didn't get your name, gorgeous," the kid said in a strangely sexy voice. Derek froze. He didn't know what was happening, but he knew he didn't like it.

"What?" Derek hissed, making sure only the boy heard him.

The kid got right up in his face, whispering in his ear. "God, you're clueless! Play along, will ya?"

Derek gave him a confused look. The kid only rolled his eyes.

"Officer Derek Hale," Derek replied.

"Derek. That's a hot guy name if I've ever heard one."

And suddenly Derek is blushing from ear to ear because that was possibly the worst pick up line in the history of the universe but _God,_ this kid...this kid did something to him.

"So, Derek," the kid said, his voice low and gravelly. All for show, "How about I take you out to dinner sometime, huh? I'd love to buy you a drink."

"Oh-uh- you don't have to-" Derek stammered.

"Come on, I want to. It'd be worth it just to see those green eyes again."

Derek looked around the room frantically, unable to look at the kid without turning red. His eyes automatically landed on the boyfriend, and suddenly everything clicked.

The guy was glaring at the two of them, fuming, his face so red he looked like he was about to explode. The look of a jealous boyfriend.

Derek felt like an idiot for not understanding sooner.

This kid was angry, and rightfully so, at his abusive boyfriend, and he was flirting with Derek to piss him off.

Normally Derek wouldn't take so kindly to being used, but right now he was just happy to see the blonde jackass squirm.

Derek put on the most sickeningly sweet smile he could manage. "Actually, I'd love to. How about you give me your number, beautiful?"

He new it sounded ridiculous the minute he said it,  and Derek was immediately overcome with embarrassment. But the kid just beamed from ear to ear.

Derek watched as he pulled out a scrap of paper and jotted down his number messily before folding it over once and placing it in Derek's hand.

Derek took it out and looked at the name.

"Stiles?" he asked.

"Yup. Unfortunately," Stiles joked. "Well, people call me Stiles. You don't even want to know my real name."

Derek just gave him a smirk. "Stiles, huh? Well, Stiles, that's a hot guy's name if I've ever heard one."

Stiles' smiled so wide and so genuinely it stretched the bruise on his cheek, and Derek didn't know why his heart was doing this to him.

"I'll be waiting, officer Hale,"

It was the last thing he said before walking outside in the direction of the ambulance.

Derek shot one last shit-eating grin at the boyfriend before walking out to his patrol car. His partner was waiting, an annoyed look on her face.

Derek jumped into the passenger side and sat down.

"What the Hell happened in there?" Lydia asked, not bothering to hide her annoyance.

Derek just reached down for his coffee and took a sip.

"Believe me, I'd tell you if I knew."

Lydia smirked. "Well, something happened."

"You don't know that."

"Der. You're smiling- like that. Something happened."

Derek just smiled right back.

Something indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, hope you like this so far! It's the first thing I've ever written about Derek and Stiles, and I haven't been watching the show too long, so if I make any mistakes please let me know! Also, I just wanted to let everyone know that I've already finished the story, so I will be posting updates fairly quickly, probably every 2-4 days. The story itself is 9 chapters long as of now. Anyway, let me know what you guys think in the comments! Any feedback is greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

 

Derek knew he should really follow the three-day rule, but not texting Stiles was slowly killing him. 

He knew it was stupid. The guy had just gotten rid of his violent ex and here Derek was, ready to pounce like a horny teenager. 

There were other reasons it was stupid, but that was the main one. Besides that, there was the fact that Derek was 25 and this kid looked about 19 or 20 at best. And the tiny little fact that Derek has never exactly been with a guy, unless he counted that one drunken makeout session at the bar after his college girlfriend dumped him.

This wasn't going to work. 

And yet, he had to try. 

That sarcastic, strangely sweet voice haunted his dreams and those golden brown eyes followed him everywhere.

If for nothing else, he needed to do this just to know that Stiles wasn't about to jump into bed with another abusive jerkoff after this. At least with Derek, he would be safe. 

Derek waited until he couldn't physically take it anymore before finally texting him.

 

**DH-Hey. How are u?**

 

**SS-Hey Derek! I'm doing good! How are you?**

 

**DH-Good. I was just wondering if you'd like to meet up sometime. I'd love to take you up on that dinner offer. Are you free this weekend?**

 

The next text came 40 minutes later. The two after that came immediately after.

 

**SS-Oh shit Derek, I'm sorry! The other day- me flirting with you- that was just to piss off my boyfriend.**

 

**SS-Not that I don't think you're hot. I'd definitely be into you if I didn't have a boyfriend, but...me and Paul are still together. I'm sorry about this, man, I suck. That was really stupid, I'm sorry. Sometimes I act before I think, you know?**

 

**SS-Anyway, I'm really sorry. I'm sure you could do better anyway. Sorry.**

 

Derek's head swirled. It was too many emotions to process at once. 

He was an idiot, that much he knew. Of course Stiles had decided to stay with his dumbass boyfriend. They always do.

He was even stupider for thinking he had a shot with Stiles in the first place.

He was angry with himself and this Paul guy, but mostly he was pissed at Stiles. 

How could he ever think that Derek was too good for him? That he could 'do better' or whatever. Just the thought of it made Derek crazy.

Obviously it wasn't Stiles fault. None of it was. It was stupid Paul and the stupid ideas he put in Stiles' head.

Derek decided it was just easier to hate everything and everyone in this situation. Being mad at Stiles kept him from feeling... other things for Stiles, and so he did what he had to do.

Still, he couldn't let Stiles see his anger. He had to be there for him. Derek was still convinced that Stiles needed him, and if it was not going to be as a boyfriend, it was at least going to be as a friend.

Derek responded as quickly as he could.

 

 **DH -No, no, that's not what I meant! I wasn't asking you out or anything, if that's what you're thinking. I just wanted to get dinner and see how you were doing.**  

 

Stiles replied in less than a minute.

 

**SS-Why?**

 

Derek bit the inside of his mouth so hard it hurt. 

 

**DH-I don't know...I was worried about you. Just making sure everything is okay.**

**SS-I appreciate the concern man, I really do, but it's not necessary. I'm fine. Better then ever actually.**

 

**DH-I'm sorry. It's just that as a cop, I get kinda close to the people I help, you know? It's hard to understand unless you've been there, I guess, but we tend to get attached. I still keep in touch with an old woman I saved from a mugger two years ago. I don't know why. It just makes me feel better to know that they're doing okay.**

 

**DH-But I understand if that makes you uncomfortable. If you'd rather not, I get that. It's completely up to you.**

 

Derek was an idiot, such an idiot. There was no way Stiles was going to buy that. He'd probably see him for the big creep that he was and Derek would never hear from him again

The next reply came in 5 minutes.

 

**SS-Man, you've got to be one of the nicest people I've ever talked to.**

 

**SS-Seriously, you're like a fucking saint**

 

**SS-I'd love to meet up with you, dude. How's this Saturday? Whatever time is good for you.**

 

Derek's insides melted and turned to goo. This kid was making him feel like a middle school kid with a crush and it was fucking ridiculous, but it didn't matter because he said _yes_.

 

**DH-Saturday sounds great! How about 7? If that works for you.**

 

Stiles responded quickly once again, and Derek's heart was going 1,000 miles per hour.

 

**SS-7 sounds great. Thanks Derek**

 

**SS-For dinner. And everything else.**

 

Derek couldn't stop the grin from spreading across his face if he tried.

 

**DH-No Stiles. Thank you :)**

 

Derek fell asleep smiling that night, his phone right by his side.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Derek drummed his fingers nervously, waiting for Stiles to walk in.

He couldn't remember that last time he was this nervous about a date. But this wasn't even a date, and God, Derek was screwed.

He tried to look over the menu, but he was just too distracted by the nervous thoughts buzzing around in his head.

And than Stiles walked in, and any ounce of calmness he had previously had went to shit.

He was wearing a red sweater that stood out against his fair skin, and his eyes were warm. His smile, though, the second he saw Derek. That was what truly got him.

Stiles darted over to the table Derek had gotten and slid into the chair across from him.

In the harsher lighting above the table, it was easier to see the bruise on his face. It was just beginning to fade into a duller green, but it was still ugly.

"How are you feeling?" Derek all but blurted out the second Stiles sat down.

"Better," Stiles said nonchalantly. "My forehead didn't even need stitches, they just glued it."

"That's great!" Derek said, possibly a little too enthusiastically.

"Yeah. So how have you been, man?"

"Me? Oh, well, you know. Good," Derek said, flustered.

"Good? Good! You're a cop, and that's all you have to say? Come on dude, give me a story or something!"

"I hate to break it to you, Stiles, but my job isn't that exciting."

"Seriously? Haven't you like stopped a murder or broke up a drug ring or anything?"

"Do you really think that's a common occurrence? How much T.V. do you watch?"

"Now that you mention it, I might be getting just a little bit too much into the crime dramas."

"I figured. But to answer your question, no, I haven't been involved in any murder cases or drug busts recently," Derek said. 

"Okay, officer, so what exactly _did_ you do this week?"

"Let's see...a lot of paperwork...I gave a few traffic tickets, um....oh, I taught a drug resistance course at the YMCA, that was kind of fun-"

"-Holy shit, officer Hale, you live such an exciting life...NOT."

"Okay, fine, my life is boring. I admit that," Derek said moodily. "So if my life is so lame, what the Hell is going on in yours? What do you do that's so exciting, huh?"

"Dude, I'm 20. I go to college. Which apparently is waaaaay more thrilling then being in the CIA, apparently-"

"-I'm not in the CIA, when did I say I was in the CIA?"

"Anyway, at least I didn't spend my week handing out parking tickets. Man, what a way to live-"

"Alright alright,I think we've had enough bashing my job for one night."

"...Awww, but I was just getting started, officer donut!"

"I'm changing the subject."

"Be my guest."

"Okay. So- anything interesting happen at school this week?"

"Oh great- you do know that's like- my _aunt's_ favorite conversation topic, right? I thought you were supposed to be cool."

"Fine, don't tell me."

Stiles just smirked. "Okay, if you wanna know so bad. I had a huge philosophy paper due on Monday, on Wednesday I had a presentation in finance, uh- I finally declared my major. Business - original, right? But I got a minor in creative writng, not that that'll do anything for me, but, you know - uh...what else? Saturday me and Paul went to a party. And Sunday I slept all day. Typical, I know, but I need my beauty sleep-"

"-A party, huh?"

"Yeah, a party. What, are you- OH. No, uh, not one of those parties, officer Hale. I'm underage, I would never go to a party where they have-"

Derek couldn't help but laugh. "Calm down, Stiles. It's fine if you were drinking. You're not in trouble."

"Oh! In that case, I got totally fucking wasted, officer Hale. Man, that felt weird to say-"

Derek internally cringed, but kept his mouth shut. "As long as you were staying safe."

Stiles just gave him a smirk and shook his head. "Man, you really are the nicest guy ever."

"Thank you, Stiles, but I'm really not-"

"Are you kidding? You keep tabs on all the people you've helped on the job over the years just to make sure they're doing okay? That's some Jesus Chris level shit, man-"

"Really, it's nothing-"

"No, seriously. Inviting me out to eat just to check up on me....while it was completely unnecessary, it was still really fucking amazing of you. You're literally a saint."

"I'm really not."

"Yeah you are."

"No I'm not."

"You totally are though. You know what you are? You're like one of those guardian angels looking over people all the time. Or like my spirit guide or something."

"Shut up and order your food. The waiter is coming."

"OOH, what should I order, oh spirit guide?"

"Shut it, Stiles!"

"It appears I have angered the Gods."

"I'm not angry."

"But just look at those broody eyebrows. Definitely angry."

"Stiles!"

"Hello, gentlemen," the waiter said, finally approaching the table. "Are you all set to order?"

"Yes, I'll have the balsamic grilled chicken with a side salad, house dressing, thank you."

"Alright. And for you sir?" the waiter asked, turning to Stiles.

"Uhhhhh.....I'll have the bacon cheeseburger, medium rare, extra bacon. OH, and fries on the side. Does getting two sides cost extra?"

"Yes, each additional side is an extra 75 cents."

"Sweet! I think I can swing that. So I'll have the fries and a baked potato, please. No sour cream, just extra butter."

"Will that be all, sir?"

"Um....yeah, I think that's good. Thanks."

It wasn't until the waitor walked away that Stiles noticed the look Derek was giving him.

"What?"

"Really? You just ordered the most artery clogging meal I've ever seen!"

"No I didn't! For your information, potatoes are vegetables."

"They're starches."

"Yeah, well, they come from the ground. So they're healthy."

"Oh really?" Derek said sarcastically.

"Yeah, really. They're all fortified with dirt nutrients and whatnot-"

" _Dirt nutrients_?"

"Uhhhh....yeah. That's what makes them vegetables!"

"You really are hopeless."

"Just living the carb-filled dream, man."

"If you eat like this all the time, all I can say is good luck living past 40."

"Most 40 year olds I know don't exactly have the most thrilling of lives, so if that's when I'm gonna croak, then I'll die with a fucking bacon cheeseburger in my hand and I'll be fucking happy."

"...Wow. I don't really know what to say to that. Enjoy your diabetes."

"Hey, I haven't even ordered the triple chocolate lava cake yet. Save your diabetes jokes until then, it will sound more genuine."

"You need help."

"Aaaand that's what your here for, right? Oh spirit guide, please guide me and my arteries on your path of righteousness-"

"-This is going to be a long night, isn't it?"

Stiles just smirked. "Oh please, officer Hale. Your having a great time. Just admit it."

Derek only smiled back, because, well....Stiles had him there. Derek _was_ having a great time. An amazing time, actually. Stiles wasn't only attractive, he was smart and funny, too. He was sarcastic and immature and goofy and genuine, and Derek had no idea he could have all these feelings just for one person. Just for _this_ one person. It was unreal.

When their food came, Derek ate carefully, watching as Stiles all but dove straight into his cheeseburger. He ate like Derek could only imagine a psychopath would, stabbing his baked potato relentlessly and drenching his french fries in ketchup until they were practically falling appart. Every bite he took was not so much a bite as it was a straightforward shoveling of food into his mouth. It was hard not to laugh. It was like he had never eaten in front of actual humans before.

After they finished, Derek ordered a coffee and Stiles got his lava cake, but they ended up sharing it because Derek wasn't a freaking robot goddamn it, and while his willpower was strong, the fact that Stiles had probably eaten about 3,000 more calories than he had tonight put his mind at ease. He could have a few bites of cake. Fuck his diet.

They argued for a while over who was to pay the bill, but they ended up splitting it with Stiles paying the tip. He accidentally gave the waiter a 40% tip because, according to Stiles, numbers had never exactly been his friend. And Hell, he _had_ been a good waiter.

The ride home was quiet. They listened to music- and Derek learned that Stiles had an unhealthy obsession with Eminem and Kendrick Lamar. Stiles told Derek about his dream of being a rapper when he was a kid, and he even spit a few verses for him. Not that Derek asked him too. But Derek pretended to like it anyway. The smile that lit up his face afterwards was well worth a little white lie.

Derek pulled up in front of Stiles apartment just as Stiles was attempting to sell Derek a copy of his mixtape. Derek expected their goodbye to be awkward, but it really wasn't. Stiles told him to keep in touch and gave him a warm hug, and Derek melted into his bony frame. He only hoped Stiles didn't notice the way his heart was beating. He didn't seem to.

Stiles waved goodbye eagerly, not turning around to walk into his apartment until Derek's car was almost out of sight. Derek felt light, unstoppable, invincible, until he craned his head back to see Paul's face peering out at him through the window. All at once, his blood ran cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, hope you liked the chapter! This honestly was probably the weakest chapter of the whole story, just because I'm awful at writing texts into stories. So sorry about that! But anyway, I hope you liked it! Next chapter there will be a lot more action, and hopefully something you didn't see coming!


	3. Chapter 3

Derek didn't hear from Stiles for a while after that.

Well, they texted, but...it wasn't the same. He didn't know if Stiles really _was_ okay if it was just over a text. Anyone can sound fine in a text message.

But for the time being, nothing bad was happening and Derek just had to hope for the best.

He refused to believe that abusers ever truly changed their ways, but maybe Paul was doing better. Maybe what happened last time was a wake up call for him. Maybe he finally realized what he was doing was really hurting Stiles, and that it had to stop.

Derek decided to stick with that theory.

His idea seemed perfectly logical. It really did until one day, only three months after he had his 'date' with Stiles, he was called right back to 186 Wharton Street. A 'domestic disturbance'.

Some older woman in the apartment across the way made the call. She heard shouting, screaming, and shattering glass, possibly.

Derek had to stop himself from ramming right through the precinct walls.

He had to get to Stiles. He _had_ to. And he had to get there _now_.

He forced himself to drive at a non-triple digit speed, only because getting arrested or in a crash wasn't really going to help him here.

When he got to Stiles and Paul's building, he rammed himself through the door and into the apartment like a maniac. When he got to their place on the 2nd floor, the door was already open and there was a paramedic standing by the door.

The first person Derek ran into was Paul. His stupid blonde hair had grown out a little bit, and damn it, he wasn't attracted to that abusive ass but he could see why Stiles might have been. Derek probably shouldn't have inwardly cheered when he saw Paul's ugly black eye. OH, black _eyes_. Yeah, no, he definitely shouldn't have cheered.

He found Stiles' sitting on the king bed in what was undoubtedly their shared bedroom, surrounded by three paramedics. Derek's heart stopped as he ran up behind them, trying to get a look at Stiles.

"Seriously, guys, I'm fine, okay?" Derek heard. "I don't need all three of you. Why don't you check on my partner, will you? I heard he took a serious beating."

Finally, two of the EMT's left the room, and now Derek had a full view of Stiles.

He had a bleeding gash on his lip and a nasty bruise on the side of his forehead. He was wearing long sleeves and pajama pants, and Derek had to admit he was grateful. He wasn't ready to admit the possiblity that there might be more damage done to Stiles than what was readily visible.

"Stiles," Derek said, his voice low and eyes wide with worry.

"Officer Hale! Long time no see," Stiles said. His voice was a little too high, a little too bright.

"Stiles."

"Aww, don't sound so depressed, officer," Stiles said, a huge grin plastered on his face. "You should see the other guy. But for real this time! I told you next time I'd get him-"

"That doesn't change the fact that you're hurt, too."

"What, this?" Stiles asked, pointing to the bruise on his forehead. "This'll be gone in a couple of days. But the satisfaction of giving that asshole two black eyes- well, that'll last a lifetime!"

"Stiles!"

"What?"

"You really shouldn't be talking about this. It's not funny, and you could get in trouble."

"What does it matter?" Stiles asked with a hysterical laugh. "I'm already going to jail, what the fuck else could happen, really?"

"Wait- what? You're going to jail? What do you mean you're going to jail?!"

"Oh, you didn't hear? Our lovely Paul is pressing charges. Just my luck, right?"

"-What?! _He's_ pressing charges? _You_ should be the one pressing charges-"

"Hey, slow down Derek. I know you're all fond of me or whatever, but don't forget that I did some damage, too. No one's innocent here. We both fucked up. The only difference is that I'm not being a pussy and pressing charges over nothing."

"It wouldn't be pressing charges over nothing, Stiles. He _hurt_ you. He's hurt you over and over again-"

"And I've hurt him, so screw us both. But I'll be damned if I go to the fucking cops- no offense- to solve my problems. Nope, I'm gonna take care of that jackass the old fashioned way-"

"Stiles!"

"Oh, get off your high horse. You know I'm no angel. Stop trying to act like you're here to save the damsel in distress. I'm no victim, officer Hale. I'm a fucking criminal -I fucking _abused_ my boyfriend. I gave him two black eyes Derek,  _two_.  You're wasting your time with me."

Derek was trying to believe him- God, he was- but he just couldn't. He just kept looking back and forth at them- skinny, 160 pounds Stiles, with the warm brown eyes and genuine smile - and big, buff 200 pound Paul, with his cold blue eyes and a little too perfect features - and he just didn't see it. There was something missing here, there had to be. Stiles- he had to be defending himself. It was self-defense. It had to be. There was no way that sweet kid actually beat up a 200 pound wall of muscle like Paul. No way.

"Stiles, please, listen to me-"

"Wish I could, officer, but I think one of your guys is taking me down to the station, so I gotta get going. Nice talking to you, officer Hale."

Derek was about to stop him, but sure enough, two cops from his division came through the door and led Stiles out.

He could've sworn he saw Paul's stupid smirk as he watched Stiles go out the door.

 


	4. Chapter 4

When Derek got to the station, Stiles was sitting on the cold metal bed in the holding cell, picking nervously at the skin around his thumb nail. He only stopped to look up when he heard someone approaching. His smile was bitter.

"Fancy meeting you here, officer."

"How are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm fine. I'm in jail, but I'm just dandy," Stiles said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "My stay here has actually been quite pleasant. The food is incredible Derek, who's the chef here, anyway? That guy deserves a solid raise-"

"Stiles, please-"

"And the beds- what is this, Egyptian cotton? I just love the décor in here too, man. I usually don't like gray walls, but I gotta say-"

"Stiles!"

"What?"

"Shut up for a second."

Stiles made a face. "Fine, officer pissy. Go ahead."

Derek didn't hesitate. "I'm here to bail you out."

Stiles almost fell over. "...What? Why? Are you serious?!"

"Yeah, I'm serious."

"...Stupid question, I know. You're always serious."

"Ha-ha."

"See, you can't even fake laugh right. You're a lost cause, man," Stiles joked. "But, in all seriousness...why?"

"Because. I really don't think you'd last a night in jail, Stilinski."

"Oh please, I can take care of myself."

"I'm just worried you'd talk so much that the other inmates would get together and beat the shit out of you just to shut you up."

"Hey, look at that! Officer Hale made a joke! - A pretty dark one, but it still counts."

Derek tried not to laugh, he really did.

"Seriously, though. I can spend a night in jail. It's not the worst thing in the world. Maybe it'll give me some street cred or whatever."

"Okay...maybe I should rephrase. I _already_ bailed you out of jail."

"What? Seriously? You didn't have to- you shouldn't have done that. I'm fine."

"You're not fine."

"Not this again- I swear to God, Derek, I can take care of myself."

"No, actually, you've proven to me this time around that you can't."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"What do you think I'm talking about? Instead of leaving that abusive asshole, you get right back together with him and you beat the living shit out of eachother again. And now you're trying to tell me that you've got your shit together? Really, Stiles?"

Stiles glared at him. "By that definition, we're both abusive assholes. So why don't you just leave me here and let me rot in jail, huh? It's where us domestic abusers belong, right?"

Derek sighed tiredly. He was really fucking tired of fighting this battle. "Okay, so you're not the only victim here. I get that. What you did was really fucking stupid and you could've seriously hurt your boyfriend."

"Thank you."

"-But that's not the point. Listen to me, Stiles- it doesn't matter who's abusing who or if you both hurt each other - that doesn't make it okay. What the both of you need to realize is that this relationship is toxic and it needs to end before one of you ends up in the emergency room."

"I fucking know that, okay?" Stiles all but yelled, suddenly getting passionate. "You don't think I know that? Him pressing charges- that was shitty even for Paul. He knows I could bury him every time if I showed the cops what he really did to me, and all I do is give him a few bruises and he fucking gets me _arrested_. Fuck him. This is fucking _it_  with him, that fucking asshole."

Derek's heart shattered a little bit at his words. It really was as bad as he thought it was, maybe even worse.

But Derek supposed he should count this as a win. It sounded like Stiles was finally reaching his breaking point.

He knew it was time to get out.

"So you're leaving him," Derek said, careful to keep his voice emotionless.

"As soon as I can, yeah."

Derek froze. "As soon as you can? He's not- he's not forcing you to stay, is he?"

"What? No, oh God no. He doesn't control me. If he ever said something like that to me he knows I'd beat the shit out of him," Stiles said.

Derek tried not to cringe at his words. "So what's stopping you from leaving?"

Stiles sighed heavily. "We've been living together for a year. It's not like I can just, you know, take off."

"I don't see why not."

"Well, first of all, basically all my shit is at our apartment."

"We can arrange to have that taken out-"

"And, uh, you know. That's where I live."

"We can help you find somewhere else-"

"Damn it, Derek! You don't fucking get it!"

"What am I not getting?"

"Everything. Do you even have feelings? What the fuck, man! I've been going out with Paul for three years. He was my first- and only - boyfriend. I used to love him, Derek! How do you not get that this is hard for me?"

Derek was quiet when he spoke.

"You said 'used to'."

"...Yeah?"

"Do you still? You know, love him?"

Stiles put his head in his hands. "Sometimes."

"But not right now?"

"...No. Not right now. Not for a while."

They were both silent for a moment. Derek looked down at Stiles, at the large purplish bruise on his forehead and the way he cradled his arm as if to protect it from further damage. Those innocent brown eyes that only looked innocent, but in reality had seen and experienced far too much. That little upturned nose, and those perfect, perfect lips.

"Come home with me."

Stiles just stared at him with wide eyes. "...What?"

"I don't want you going back to that apartment. Not tonight."

Stiles sighed. "That's really nice of you, man, but I don't need to crash at your place. I could stay with my dad, or with my friend Scott-"

"But you won't, though."

"Excuse me?"

"You won't," Derek said confidently. He had seen this too many times. "You'll tell me that's what you're doing so I won't worry, but then you'll go right back to that apartment. I'm not willing to risk it, Stiles."

"Fuck you."

"And I'm guessing Paul knows where your dad and your friend Scott lives, too. What's stopping him from coming to find you there and beating you again?"

"He won't- he can try it, but I'll-"

"You'll what? You'll fight back and you'll hurt each other and you'll end up right back here again and the cycle will continue until one of you winds up fucking _dead_ Stiles, alright? I've been a cop for six years, Stiles, I've seen this before. You're gonna wind up fucking- you're gonna- you're in serious trouble here, Stiles. This- what you've gotten yourself into- this is a lot more dangerous then you realize right now. I don't know how else to tell you- you're fucking _life_ is in danger, Stiles. You need to get out, and you need to get out now."

When Derek looked down, Stiles' eyes were glistening. He wasn't crying, but Derek could tell it was taking a lot of effort not to.

"You can't force me to go with you."

Derek looked down at the floor. "I know I can't force you. But- it would make me feel a lot better if you'd just crash at my place tonight. I have a guest room and everything. You'll be safe there."

Derek expected another snarky line, a sarcastic decline, but Stiles only nodded. "...Okay. Okay. I'll go with you."

Derek almost smiled. "Do you want me to pick up anything at your place before we go?"

"No. Thanks, but no."

"Are you sure? I don't mind-"

"No, Derek, can we please just go?"

Derek looked down and saw the kid was starting to shake.

"Yeah, come on. Let's get out of here."


	5. Chapter 5

The first thing Derek did when they arrived at his place was to find Stiles a sweatshirt and some blankets.

He still hadn't stopped shaking, and he had been a little too pale and silent in the car.

Derek couldn't find any sweatshirts that weren't a size XL, so he finally settled on his warmest one and figured Stiles might like it a little oversized anyway.

When he came back into the room, he found Stiles still fidgeting on his couch, rubbing his arm and pulling up his sleeve. Derek wished he hadn't seen the bruises; ugly greenish blobs covering his pale arms.

"I got you a sweatshirt," he said, tossing it to him.

"Thanks, man," Stiles said, his voice low, cautious. A little gravelly.

Derek figured he should just come out with it. "I can take a look at your, uh-injuries, if you want. I have a first aid kit, and-"

"Not necessary, buddy. I'm good."

"I know it's not necessary. But I want to."

"Again, thanks- but I'm good."

"I know- it'd just make me feel better. Please."

Stiles sighed and rolled up his sleeve. "That's your excuse for everything, isn't it?"

"Pretty much," Derek said humorlessly, sitting down next to Stiles on the couch. Stiles was holding out his right arm, covered in bruises and bent at the elbow.

"This is the only place you're hurt?"

"Well, I wouldn't say hurt, but yeah- my arm got a little banged up. It's no big deal. Everything else is fine."

"Okay, I'll take a look at it," Derek said, Taking Stiles arm gently in his hands. He examined it, pressed down in a few key spots to make sure it wasn't broken, and checked for bleeding.

"What's the prognosis, good doctor?"

Derek ignored his attempt at humor. No way was he making light of this situation again.

"Well, the good news is nothing seems to be broken, and there's no bleeding."

"So what's the bad news."

"Well, I'm guessing you already know this, but there's some pretty serious bruising going on there. It's gonna be sore for a while. Try to sleep on your other side tonight, and take a Tylenol."

"Wow, Doctor genius. You're medical breakthroughs never cease to amaze me."

"Okay okay, at least I tried to help," Derek said moodily. "I took a first aid class a while ago, I figured maybe I remembered some of what we were taught."

"And do you?"

"Nope."

Stiles smirked. "Figures. Thanks anyway, man. Really."

"No problem," Derek said. "I'm gonna go get dinner. Call me if you need anything."

"And what gluten-free, sugar-free, carb-free, fun-free dinner are we having tonight, oh great chef?"

Derek smiled and tossed him a take-out menu from Vinny's. "I'm getting an extra-large bacon pizza. You do what you want."

Stiles just stared at him before a huge smile took over his face. "Dude! Who the Hell are you? The Derek Hale I know would _never_ put something so artery clogging into his sacred body."

Derek shrugged. "I figured we could both use some comfort food."

Stiles laughed. It was deep and crackling and genuine, and it made something inside of Derek light up. " _Comfort food_? What are you, my grandma?"

"Hey, you want the pizza or not?"

"...With a side of onion rings, por favor."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once again, Derek ate carefully and Stiles ate like he was at his last supper.

"Man, this is amazing! What'd you say that place is called again?"

"Vinny's Pizza and Subs. And I've had better."

"I refuse to believe that."

"It's true, Rafe's Bistro down the street is even better."

"Oh, you are sooo bringing me there tomorrow."

Derek smiled. Stiles was planning to stay.

Not forever, he reminded himself.

But every day with Stiles, seeing his smile, knowing he was safe...that was a gift. And not one that he planned to take for granted.

"Quit staring at me, dude."

Derek snapped out of it quickly enough, but he could feel the redness coming to his cheeks.

"What?"

"You were staring at me, I fucking saw you!"

"Was not!"

"I know what you're doing, man," Stiles said, a warning in his voice.

Derek froze. _Shit._

"What are you talking about?"

"I know what you're doing," Stiles said, his voice rising. "And you can quit worrying about me. For the last time, I'm fine."

"I- I never said-"

"God, it's just the way you- you fucking _look_ at me, dude. Like I'm some little kid that needs to be protected."

"No- No! I don't think of you that way Stiles, I've never thought of you that way."

"Than why the Hell are you always giving me those sad puppy-dog eyes, huh? Why do you always look like you feel so damn sorry for me?"

"Puppy-dog eyes?" Derek asked in confusion. He had always been told his eyes were cold, harsh even. This was new. "I swear, I wasn't doing that. Not on purpose."

"Yeah, whatever man. Just remember I don't need your pity."

"I know."

Stiles face was still red, but he wasn't as tense as he was before.

"I think I'm gonna go to bed early tonight."

Derek just nodded. "Okay. Can I get you anything?"

"No, you've done enough."

"Are you sure? I have some extra pillows-"

"No, Derek! Jesus Christ! I just want to go to bed!"

"Oh-okay."

Derek could only watch as Stiles stormed off to the guest room down the hall and slammed the door behind him.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, Derek found himself pacing up and down the hallway in front of the guest room.

It was noon, and Stiles wasn't up yet.

He tried not to worry, he really shouldn't worry, he had no reason to. Stiles had been through a lot yesterday, he was probably just tired.

But Derek's heart ached to see him, to make sure he really was okay.

Plus, he had just made some blueberry pancakes just for Stiles. And not from the box, either. This was some real homemade shit, and Stiles was gonna eat it and he was gonna love it, goddamn it.

After about 10 minutes of hurried pacing, Derek's damn feelings finally took over and he opened Stiles' door.

Stiles was there at the very least. That was a good sign.

He wasn't moving. Not such a good sign.

Derek ran over to him as fast as he could and nearly pounced on the side of the bed. Only then did Stiles finally stir.

"Dude," he said harshly, his voice cracking. "-what the Hell- ow! Fuck! What the Hell is wrong with you?"

Derek jumped off the bed like he had touched fire.

"Stiles, I'm so sorry- did I land on you?"

Stiles snorted a laugh, and Derek felt just a little bit better. "No, asshole, but you came pretty close,"

"Oh," Derek said stupidly. "But then- why did you act like I hurt you?"

"I was just joking, man. Wanted to see you freak out."

"Didn't sound like a joke to me."

"It was."

"It wasn't."

Stiles sighed. "Alright, officer jerkoff. It wasn't you. I was just feeling a little sore today. That's it. Don't get your panties in a bunch."

Derek was about to come up with a witty comeback of some kind but he stopped himself, because- oh. _Oh_.

He really was an idiot.

All this time he couldn't have figured out maybe Stiles was in pain?

He had just gotten the living shit kicked out of him the day before, it wasn't like this should come as a shock.

Like he said. He was a straight up moron.

"Stiles-" he said softly, sitting back down on the bed next to him.

"Oh no, don't you dare. Don't give me your fucking pity voice again. I don't wanna hear it, okay?"

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid_. How many times could Derek possibly fuck up today?

"I'm sorry-"

"If you tell me you're sorry one more time, I swear to God I'll kill you."

Derek took a deep breath.

"Okay. Okay, I get it," Derek said, careful to keep his voice emotionless this time. "You just want some time alone."

Stiles sighed like Derek was the most frustrating person in the universe. "Look, I'm not telling you to leave, alright? That's not what this is about," he began. "All I'm asking is that you treat me like a person, not like some poor abused orphan boy you've adopted."

Derek bit his lip. "I can do that."

Stiles smiled a little bit, even though Derek could tell it pained him to do so. The cut on his lip was still ugly and wide.

"Thanks, dude."

"So we're good?"

"We're good."

Derek finally let his shoulders relax. While there was nothing he wanted to do more right now than get Stiles some Tylenol, a few more pillows and a blanket, he knew better. It was better to let Stiles recover the way he wanted to. He needed his space, and that was okay. Derek understood that. But still, it was hard.

"Man, what's that _smell_?"

Derek almost laughed at how mystified Stiles sounded. Like he had never smelled pancakes before.

"Oh-uh- I kinda made pancakes," Derek said. "-Not for you or anything-I know you can take care of yourself. But if you wanted some...I don't know if I can eat them all. I made eight of them."

“You made pancakes for _me_?”

“What- No! I just told you, I made them for myself- I didn’t know there would be extras-“

“Shut up, Derek,” Stiles said, his voice oddly high. “Shut the fuck up.”

Derek just stood there like an idiot, unsure of what he did wrong.

He really couldn’t stop saying the wrong thing today.

“-Stiles…I’m sorry.”

“Shit, Derek-“

“Wait- I didn’t mean to say that! I’m- not sorry! I’m-“

“Shit. Shit.”

“Stiles?”

“Fucking shit, Derek-“

It wasn’t until then that Derek realized Stiles was crying.

He wasn’t bawling his eyes out or anything, he wasn’t cursing or blubbering like an idiot. Just a few silent tears were trickling down his cheeks, and Derek was grateful. It broke his heart, but he was grateful. It was the most emotion he had seen from Stiles since he met him, and it had to be healthier than just keeping the pain bottled up inside. But still, just watching Stiles as he broke down…it was almost too much to take.

“You made me pancakes.”

“No, Stiles, I-“

“You made me pancakes, and you let me sleep in your house and you bailed me out of jail and- and all I’ve done for you is given you shit.”

“That’s not true-“

“I should go- I should go-“

Stiles started to get up, but his arm wasn’t cooperating and he was having a hard time pushing himself up off the bed. Derek was about to help him, but eventually he just sunk back down into the mattress in defeat.

“Damn it, Derek-“ he said, covering his face in his hands. “How the fuck did we get here?”

“…What?”

“I mean, how did we get here? How did I get myself into this and how did you- why are you just-“

Derek’s heart shattered for the millionth time this week.

“Hey- you didn’t get yourself into anything, Stiles. This is not your fault.”

Stiles shook his head bitterly. “Not all of it, no. But I’d be kidding myself if I just pretended that I didn’t have something to do with it.”

Derek was about to fight back, say that Stiles was in fact innocent and that he shouldn’t blame himself- but he stopped himself. That was not what Stiles needed to hear right now, and he knew it.

“Okay, yeah. So you made a mistake. A really huge fucking mistake, Stiles. And you did have something to do with it. You hurt the person you love, and he hurt you,” Derek said calmly, no judgment in his voice. “But this- this is not the end of the world. You left, Stiles. You got out. The hard part is over. You’re 20 years old, this was your first real relationship. You made mistakes, and you’re gonna keep making them. But your 20 years old and you have so, so much time, Stiles. You’re gonna be okay, alright? You’re gonna be just fine. Trust me.”

Stiles shook his head again, tears flowing freely now.

“Why are you doing this for me?”

Derek took a deep breath. He knew this question was coming, but he still wasn’t ready for it.

“Because, Stiles. Because- I know you don’t want to hear this, but- I saw someone who needed my help. I saw a good kid in a bad situation. And I knew the second I saw you, Stiles- I knew you were much better than this. I’ve seen way too many good people get trapped. I’ve seen way too many bad situations become fucking _horrible_ situations. I could go on and on and give you a million reasons, but the truth is- I care about you. I care about you, and I want to see you happy.”

Stiles wiped his eyes on his sweatshirt sleeve, the one Derek had given him, and God- he just looked so _young_. Derek was struck by it immediately, about how unfair this really was, how wrong it was that this kid- basically still a teenager…this was all he knew about love. Paul was his first real relationship. He was 20 years old and in his mind, love and hurt went together hand in hand. It wasn’t fair, it really wasn’t fair, and suddenly Derek was fighting back his own tears.

“…Derek?”

“-Yeah, Stiles?”

“…I’m sorry. Oh God, I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Derek said. He looked over at Stiles, tears running down his upturned nose, lanky frame practically swimming in Derek’s hoodie, and Derek really just wanted to reach out and hug the kid, pat him on the shoulder, do _something._

In the end, Stiles was the one reaching out for Derek, grabbing him and holding onto him tight.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles repeated through his tears. “I really am sorry. I was a dick to you when you were the only person who gave a fuck about me, and I’m really fucking sorry.”

“I know,” Derek said, trying to be comforting. He hoped it was working; comforting sad people and sharing feelings wasn’t exactly in Derek’s wheelhouse.

“Let me make it up to you, man.”

“That’s not necessary-“

“I know it’s not necessary. I want to.”

“That’s really nice of you, Stiles, but I-“

“Please. It will make me feel better.”

Derek managed a smirk. “Using my own excuses against me?”

“Yup. Don’t change the subject.”

“I won’t.”

“So what can I do, man? Anything you want, anything you ask-“

“Right now?”

“Well...yeah. I wanna do something for you this time. And I’m not gonna wait until you conveniently ‘forget’, okay?”

Derek thought about it for a moment.

He had an idea.

“Fine. Anything I want?”

“Anything, man.”

“…Okay. Tell me about you.”

“…What?”

“You heard me. I want to hear more about you, Stiles. And start from the beginning.”

“What? You just want- like- my life’s story or something?”

“That’d be a good place to start, yes.”

Stiles smiled. “God, you’re a fuckin’ weirdo, you know that right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a creepy motherfucker. Now get on with the story.”


	7. Chapter 7

"Come on, Stiles. Let's get on with it."

"Alright- hold on-"

"I don't have all day."

"Yes you do."

"...That's beside the point. On with the story."

"Okay pushy- let's see. I still don't know what the Hell you want, so I'm just gonna start from the very beginning. So I grew up in this tiny, weird little town- you ever heard of Beacon Hills?"

"Doesn't ring a bell."

"Okay, well, yeah. That's where I'm from. Uh...I grew up with just my dad, mostly, my mom...she passed away a long time ago. But it's okay 'cause my dad's the best, he really is. He's a cop too- oh God. You two would probably be buddies or something."

"If he's anything like you, I doubt it," Derek said.

"Hey! What the Hell, Derek?" Stiles said, only half joking.

"What? I was trying to be sarcastic. Like you."

"Yeah, well, you suck at it. So stop."

"Fine, I'll stop."

"When I do it, it's funny. When you do it, you just sound like a jackass."

"Okay, I get it. Now go on."

"...Fine. Where was I...oh, so my dad was great, besides that I had my best friend Scott, who's just the nicest dude you'll ever meet...and man, his mom is the best too. Awesome family, if you don't count his dumbass dad. But anyway-"

"Tell me about Paul."

Stiles froze.

"Wow, you uh- you don't fool around, do you officer?"

"I'm sorry- I didn't mean to be so-"

"-It's okay. It is. I should've figured," Stiles said.

"I'm sorry, Stiles," Derek said. "Of course I loved hearing about your family, but-"

"No, I get it. I'm not mad at you," Stiles said, more casually than Derek would have expected. "I mean, I'm just surprised you waited this long to ask about him. I figured you'd be curious eventually. Human nature, you know?"

"...Yeah. Human nature," Derek mumbled.

"So anyway...I met Paul when I was a sophomore in high school. He was a senior on the wrestling team. I was more of a lacrosse guy myself, so we didn't exactly cross paths much. Yeah, I don't think I met him until the last semester of 10th grade...it was some lame ass party that my girlfriend at the time dragged me to 'cause she heard they had alcohol. I don't even know why I agreed to it. I mean, probably so she'd have sex with me, she really was beautiful. But then I met Paul, and after that- I didn't give a fuck about any other girls- or guys. He was like- the most attractive person I'd ever seen in my life. And he was charming. People are just drawn to him, you know?"

Derek nodded. Looking into Stiles warm golden brown eyes, he understood. Some people just had that effect on you.

"So I started flirting with him, big time. I'd go wait by his locker every day- dude, it was shameless. I didn't even know he was gay at the time- hell, I still didn't know that _I_  was into dudes at the time. But I guess he liked me- well, he _did_ like me- 'cause when I asked him out he said yes. And he wasn't joking either. At first I thought he was just trying to fuck with me, pretend he likes me and then tell the whole school I'm a fag or something. But he really liked me. It was fucking weird. Here I was, all braces and zits and awkwardness, and Paul was the big muscular perfect looking blonde dude. And he liked _me_. It didn't make sense, but I took it and ran with it anyway."

Derek bit his lip, because even with zits and braces and teenage awkwardness Stiles would still be the most attractive, wonderful person on earth. There was no question, no doubt in his mind.

"Anyway, so we started dating. And it wasn't like it was some whirlwind, sappy love story romance either. It was like- just normal. We were friends more than- you know. We hung out more than we made out. We were into the same stuff, we both loved the same movies and video games and sports and everything. It was cool. But then, when we really talked- that was amazing, too. He got my sense of humor- a lot of people don't. His dad died when he was really young, so he kinda understood what I went through with my mom. And just- I don't know. There's no real way to explain how you love someone. Or why. We just clicked, and everything felt good for a change. We went out all during high school, and those were the happiest three years of my life. I know it's not saying much 'cause I'm only 20. But- it was. If it counts for anything, I was really, really happy."

Derek nodded. "When did things-start to change?"

Stiles dropped his gaze to the floor. "Not until after I graduated. He had already been living by himself in an apartment near the university I got into, and he asked me to 'be his roommate.' Cute, huh? It probably wasn't the best decision to move in with my boyfriend at 19, but we had been dating for two years and he was 21 and kinda an adult so I figured it'd be okay. Okay, well, I figured it'd be better than okay. I thought it was gonna be amazing. Late nights eating pizza and watching movies, no sneaking around our parents to have sex. It was supposed to be fucking amazing, man."

"What happened?"

Stiles' body went rigid. "You know how you never really know a person completely till you live with them? Well, I learned that lesson the hard way, I guess. Seeing Paul for four hours a week on our Saturday date nights was a lot different from seeing Paul all day, every day. I always knew Paul had a temper. Sometimes we fought, but it was mostly over the phone. I knew he screamed when he got angry, and I had seen him punch a wall once- but we weren't living together. It's hard to get really pissed at someone, enough to hurt them, until you're living in the same space. Before, when I saw him starting to get mad, I would just go home, you know? Sleep in my own bed and by the next time I saw Paul, usually whatever he was mad about- well, he wasn't angry anymore."

Stiles had to take a deep breath before he continued.

"When we started living together- that's when I really learned about Paul's problem. It wasn't all the time, either. Little things don't set him off. But Paul's a fucking jealous guy, and he hates to lose. There are two rules, I've learned: Don't make Paul look stupid, and don't flirt with other guys. Or girls. But man, for whatever reason, nothing made him madder than seeing me flirt with a hot guy. It made him so mad- at first it would just happen by accident, or he'd think I was flirting with someone that I wasn't. I'm a friendly guy, Derek, what can I say? So this cycle started- I'd 'flirt' with somebody, and he'd come home and hit me in the face or something, and I'd just take it. I don't know why. Apparently at that point I still had some morals and didn't believe in hitting back. I didn't want to hurt him back then. I still cared about him, for some reason. I still loved him."

Derek watched, his heart breaking as Stiles voice went soft.

"Then...something happened. We went out to a bar, and while he was in the bathroom some guy started hitting on me. I wasn't even into it, but when Paul came back he saw the guy flirting and he just assumed I was flirting back. He didn't speak to me the whole ride home. As soon as he got in, though, he started screaming and hitting me, but it wasn't like before. Before, it would just be like, one punch, one slap in the heat of the moment. This was- this was fucking evil. He was trying to hurt me, and he did. I thought he was gonna _kill_ me, Derek. It was the worst he'd ever hit me. He fucking tried to _choke_ me- and he actually broke my arm. I had to go to the fucking _hospital_ , Derek. It was the first time he ever really, actually hurt me."

Derek's eyes were watering at this point, but he didn't care. Fuck his manhood. Fuck everything.

"After that- something changed. I didn't just sit back and take it anymore. I didn't try to justify what he did. I didn't care about hurting him. Hell, I _wanted_ to hurt him. I know that sounds fucked up, but it's true. Before I flirted with other guys because it was fun and he didn't fucking own me, but now I do it just to piss him off. I tried to piss him off constantly, and I'm good at it, so we fought all the time. We fought and we beat the shit out of each other 'cause we both fucking hate each other now, but neither of us can leave, you know that?" Stiles tone was bitter, almost acidic. "I know I should've left the second I got out of the hospital that night. I should've packed up my things and never came back. But you know what? I was too fucking angry to leave him. I didn't want peace or happiness or whatever, I wanted _revenge_. I wanted to hurt him worse than he ever hurt me. I wanted to rip his fucking head off. How fucked up is that? I never left my asshole boyfriend and I never moved on and lived a happy life because I was too fucking angry to. God, I know it sounds fucking insane. But he fucking ruined me, Derek, and if I was going to Hell then he was coming right along with me."

Derek just stared, his eyes wide.

"Well, aren't you gonna say something?" Stiles asked, fired up. "You're the one who wanted to hear this. So why don't you go ahead and tell me how fucked up I am."

Derek's voice was quiet.

"Is that what you still want to do?"

"What?"

"Is that what you're going to do, when you leave my house?" Derek asked. "Are you going to go straight back to your apartment and beat up Paul for what he did to you? Are you gonna go and get your revenge?"

His tone was surprisingly not judgmental, not angry. Just...curious.

"God, I want to," Stiles said, closing his eyes. "There's nothing I want to do more right now than to go back to his apartment and wring his stupid neck."

Derek nodded, trying hard not to cringe.

"But at the same time, I want to just forget about this," Stiles said. "God, I wish I could just forget about everything he's done to me, forget about how much he's fucked me up. But I can't. I can't. I hate him more than I've ever loved anything, Derek. I want to hurt him more than I want my own happiness."

Derek's eyes filled with unshed tears. "I know, Stiles. I know," he said. "I know how easy it is to just get fucking consumed by your own hate, either for yourself or for someone else. I know."

"Derek-"

"And I know right now you think that Paul has fucked you up beyond repair. But you know what? That's not true, Stiles. I know you're angry. I know you've hurt people- I know you've hurt Paul and I know that deep down- even though you say he deserves it now- you still hate yourself for it. I know. I know it's not just Paul that you hate."

"Fuck you, you don't-"

"Don't you dare try to tell me I don't know what I'm talking about, Stiles," Derek warned, his eyes stinging. "My entire- my whole entire family fucking _died_ because of me. So don't you dare tell me."

"Derek, holy shit- I didn't know about your family, but- that can't be your fault. Don't blame yourself-"

"But it is my fault, Stiles. I caused it. I'm responsible, at least partially. But we're not getting into that right now Stiles, because right now we're focused on you. We'll deal with my shit later," Derek said, his heart pounding. "What I'm trying to say is- I know exactly what it feels like to wake up everyday hating yourself, hating life, hating fucking _everything_. And it takes over your life. All you can see is your anger. You can't even think about ever becoming happy again, because you're hurting so much that all you want to do is hurt. Hurt everyone and everything and just fucking _hurt_."

Stiles' voice was barely a whisper. "What did you do?"

"I did what I had to do, Stiles. I lived."

"What are you talking about?"

"I put one foot in front of the other. I woke up every day and I forced myself not to think about how much I hate myself or Kate or-"

"Who's Kate?"

"Never mind that. What I was saying is, I woke up every day and I tried to be kind to myself. I remembered that I'm human, and I'm young, and sometimes I don't know my ass from my elbow and that's okay. I made a mistake, and I hurt other people and I hurt myself. But the clock is going to keep ticking, the world is going to keep turning, and I have a choice. I can either choose to spend every day hating myself and everyone around me or spend my days fantasizing about murdering Kate in my head. Or I can keep my chin up, go out into the world, and try to find some happiness. Whether I deserve it or not. Like it or not, I'm still alive and I've got to keep living."

Stiles shifted his gaze to meet Derek's eyes.

"I haven't been happy in so long," he said slowly. "I didn't even care that I wasn't. It's like I wanted to be miserable."

"I know. I felt that way too. And I know how hard it is, but you've got to fight it. You need to tell yourself that you don't deserve this. You deserve to be happy like everybody else. You deserve to find love, and not the kind that hurts."

"I want to be," Stiles said. "I want to be happy. I don't want to hate him anymore."

"You don't have to."

"I don't want to love him either."

"I know."

"I just...I think I want to let him go. I just want to- I want to go somewhere. Far away. Like a tropical island or something. Hawaii! Or Europe or something. Somewhere I don't ever have to think about Paul ever again because I deserve it. You know what? I deserve it. This whole thing was my fault and his fault and nobody's fault but who fucking cares? I wanna be happy, and I want Paul to be happy 'cause he's fucking human too. He's human and I'm human and we're both assholes but we're also good people. We're good people."

Derek just smiled. Stiles' eyes were bright.

"I want to be happy," he said, this time confidently. "I want to let go."

"Then do it."

"It's not that easy-"

"-But isn't it, though?" Derek said.

"But you said yourself-"

"No, Stiles. Wanting to be happy, convincing yourself that you deserve it- that's the hard part for us. After that- actual happiness- that's easy."

Stiles gave him a ridiculous smile. "How do you figure that?"

"Well, you already came up with a pretty good idea."

"What? Since when?"

"Since just now," Derek said. "Weren't you the one who just said we should go to Hawaii?"

"-Or Europe. And I was kidding! Well, I wasn't kidding but I was just rambling, man! I was saying I should get away from Paul. And by that I meant move out of our apartment. Not move to another country."

"Why can't you do both?"

"Because it's stupid."

"Why?"

"You know why!"

"Give me one good reason!"

"I'm in college, and you have a job."

"...Oh. Right."

"Yeah. Right."

Stiles leaned over and got up close to Derek then. Derek could feel Stiles breath, sense the heat radiating from him.

"You're amazing. You know that, right?"

"Well...."

"Really. You are," he said. "You know, before, how I was joking and I called you my guardian angel and spirit guide and all that?"

"Yeah-"

"Well, joke's on me. Cause it's true," Stiles said. "You- you're just- I think you might've saved my life."

"Not true-"

"-Derek..."

"Hear me out," Derek said, interrupting him. For once, Stiles shut up. "I didn't save you because you, Stiles Stilinski, don't need saving. You'll never need saving. You're too strong for that. Remember that, Stiles. Remember that in 20 years, when you've got an amazing job and a beautiful home and a family that loves you and you're happier than you ever dreamed possible. It's not gonna be because of me, Stiles. It's gonna be because of you. You're going to have an amazing life, Stiles. You're going to have an amazing life because you're stronger than anyone I've ever known. Trust me on that."

Stiles just got even closer to Derek. They were practically touching now, and Derek felt like he was on fire.

"...Derek?"

"Yeah?"

"...I think I might love you a little bit."

Derek pulled back enough to meet his eyes, glowing and warm.

Derek leaned in, and Stiles shut his eyes in anticipation.

Derek gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.

"I think I might love you, too."

Stiles opened his eyes and made a face, and on anyone else it would've annoyed him. On Stiles, it was so endearing and sweet it took every fiber of his being not to pull him back in and kiss him for real this time.

"That's not the kind of love I was talking about," he said snidely. "That was, like- grandma love."

"I know."

"Actually, my grandma kisses me way harder than that."

"Okay, I get it-"

"Sometimes she even throws in a little lip action-"

"Stiles!"

"Yes, officer Derek?"

Derek just shook his head and laughed.

"For now, you get grandma love," he said.

"Why?"

"You know why."

Derek expected Stiles to fight him, but all he got was a slight smile, accompanied by watery eyes.

"Are you okay?" Derek asked. He really wasn't expecting Stiles to break down again.

But Stiles held back, not allowing a single tear. His eyes were swimming, but he did not cry.

"Stiles?"

Stiles just stood there.

"Stiles?"

"Nothing- I'm just- I'm just-"

Without warning, Stiles started walking-almost running away. Derek, after the momentary surprise wore off, ran off after him, chasing him down the hall.

Stiles was almost at his room when he caught up to him. He took Stiles gently by the shoulders and spun him around so they were face to face.

"You're just _what_ , Stiles?"

His lips were quivering and his eyes were wetter than even before.

He was smiling.

"I'm- I'm happy, Derek," Stiles said. Derek's heart fluttered, but it wasn't nerves like it usually was. This feeling was foreign, and scary, and bizarre. He loved it.

"I'm happy."


	8. Chapter 8

"Are you sure you don't want me to come in with you?"

"Yeah, officer paranoid. I think I can handle this."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I am."

Derek waited outside the familiar apartment on Wharton Steet, playing with the knob on his radio.

It was amazing how different the place looked when he wasn't terrified out of his mind for Stiles' well-being.

It almost looked like a nice place to live.

He waited and waited for what felt like an hour, but realistically was only about 20 minutes, as Stiles' hurriedly threw his few important belongings into the backseat of Derek's car.

Most things, as Stiles explained on the drive over, he was leaving behind.

Derek didn't ask any questions.

He wished Stiles would have let him help carry his things out, or at least let him come in for moral support.

Paul had work at this time, but people call in sick occasionally. And Derek was overprotective as Hell.

Today, however, Derek was much more calm than he thought he would be.

Amazingly enough, super-crazy, hyper, ADHD afflicted Stiles seemed to have that effect on him.

That was, he _did_ have that effect on him, until 30 minutes later, when Derek witnessed probably the least-calming thing he had ever seen- Stiles running at him, as fast as he could, and throwing himself violently into the passenger's seat.

"Stiles!" Derek yelled, any ounce of calm he previously had gone.

"Step on it, man!"

"Stiles! What-"

"Step on it!"

So Derek did. He drove away as fast as he possibly could. Stiles' junk in the back of the car weighed it down a little, and the car felt heavy. He was practically flooring it anyway.

He waited until he was a safe distance away before saying something.

"Stiles? Stiles! Are you okay? Was he in there? Did he hurt you?"

Stiles just started laughing, laughing, laughing. He sounded like a maniac.

"Stiles?"

More laughing.

"Stiles!"

"I'm free," he said barely a whisper.

"...What?"

"I'm fucking- I'm _out_ of there, man! You know that?"

"Yeah, I mean- of course I know that. I drove you there. And I'm driving you away."

"I'm- I'm- this is like- I'm starting over! Happy fucking New Year, Derek!"

"You're insane, you are aware of that. Right?"

"Hell yeah I am," Stiles said, as he turned the radio up to full blast. "You wanna see what's really crazy though?"

"Oh God-"

Stiles pulled something out of his pocket, and Derek really shouldn't have taken his eyes off the road while he was going 70 miles per hour. This boy was going to be the death of him.

Derek finally got a good look at what he was holding.

Plane tickets. _Two_ plane tickets.

"Stiles...what are those?"

"Your ticket to paradise, baby!"

Derek almost pulled into oncoming traffic.

"You bought tickets to Hawaii?!"

Stiles made a face. "No, stupid, Germany! Why does everybody think Hawaii when I say that?"

Derek didn't know whether to laugh or- he didn't even know.

"But- I thought you said- don't you have school?"

"Yeah, I kinda decided maybe moving to another continent right now isn't the best way to go," Stiles said.

"Then why are you-"

"No one said I couldn't take a vacation."

Derek smiled, because of course he could. After all he'd been through, Stiles deserved a 10 year trip all around the globe with all of the disgusting fried food that he so loved. He deserved that and then some.

"Oh. Good for you, Stiles."

"And you're coming with me, you know."

Derek couldn't say he didn't see that coming.

"I kinda figured that."

"So you're really coming? - I mean, I was gonna force you anyway, but...you _want_ to come? With _me_?"

Derek just smiled.

 _Hell yeah, he did_. More then Stiles would ever know.

"I'm paying for my own ticket, you know."

"Already paid for, mi amigo."

"I mean I'll pay you back."

"Nope."

"How much was the ticket?"

"Not telling."

"Give me the ticket, Stiles."

"-Fine, how about this. I'll cover both the tickets and you can do the tip."

"Okay, I guess that's- wait a minute. What tip?"

"You know. The stewardesses and the security guy and the guy who punches your ticket-"

"What- Stiles! You don't tip those people!"

"Maybe not 40%, no, but a good 30%- come on, Derek. Have a heart!"

"You can't-you don't - you don't tip those people, Stiles!"

"But they work so hard..." Stiles whined.

"Oh God, who else do you tip?"

"The pizza delivery guy."

"Good."

"...Aaaand the dude at the gas station, and the nurse at my doctor's office, and the guy at Wal-Mart who always asks if I want my eggs in a separate bag, and the receptionist at my dentist office, and the guy at the movie theatre who says 'right this way, sir!' and-"

Derek could have stopped him- _should_ have stopped him. But he didn't.

Instead, he started to lean in.

He shouldn't- he should've stopped himself. But he couldn't help it.

Right now- this- this was _perfect._ He wanted Stiles now more than he ever had.

This time, it was Stiles who stopped the kiss.

He ducked out of the way almost cartoonishly, and Derek turned beet red.

"-Oh. I'm so- I didn't mean- if you don't want to, I should've asked-"

"It's okay," Stiles said softly.

"I understand if you're not ready yet," Derek said.

"It's not that," Stiles replied.

"Then what is it?"

Stiles looked out the car window. "I don't want to see you get hurt."

Derek couldn't believe what he had just heard. " _You_  don't want to see _me_  get hurt?"

"I'm serious, Derek," Stiles said. The way he said Derek's name sent shivers up his spine. "-Not that I would ever hurt you. But...did I ever tell you about the time I broke Paul's nose?"

"You haven't," Derek said, no judgment in his voice. "But I'm sure there was a good reason for it-"

Stiles sighed loudly, like it was the worst answer Derek could've given him. "See? That's the problem," he said. "You're trying to excuse what I did. You're saying it was _okay_ that I _beat up my boyfriend._ You know who does that?"

"-Stiles-"

"Victims. That's who does that," Stiles said. "That's who makes up excuses for people like me and Paul. Victims. People who get abused."

"Stiles- you know I've never been-"

"Doesn't matter," Stiles said. "You're making excuses for me now, aren't you? That means you'd make excuses for me if I beat you. And I'm not willing to risk that."

Derek just sat there, unable to say a word.

"And for the record, I was the one who started it that night," Stiles said. His eyes had a far off look to them. "All he did was- he invited his brother to sleep over our place that night without asking me."

Stiles looked down at his hands, his eyes watering. "I punched him in the face and broke his fucking nose, Derek, all because I was pissed off he invited his own _brother_ to our place. _Our_ place, not mine."

"But...this only happened once- what he did to you was so much worse, Stiles-"

"What is it, a fucking competition?" Stiles all but yelled at him. "It doesn't matter how often or how bad someone hurts you! If someone hurts you, they hurt you, man! And I hurt Paul- and it wasn't just once, either. Every time he hit me, I hit him back. Don't you get that?"

"It was self-defense-"

"Oh, come on, man," Stiles said, getting angry. "Okay- sometimes it was just self-defense. But more often than that I was just pissed and I hurt him 'cause I _wanted_ to hurt him. And I fucking hate admitting that to myself, let alone you. You have no idea what that does to me, Derek, but you have to get it. You have to get it through your thick skull and understand that I could hurt you. I don't care that your 200 pounds and ripped. I know for a fact that if I hit you, you would never hit me back. Not even if I was killing you. And that's what I love about you, Derek. And that's why I can't do this to you."

"...Why are you telling me this?"

Stiles closed his eyes. Derek could barely hold back his own tears as Stiles thrust the pair of plane tickets in his direction.

"Don't do this-"

"Take them," Stiles said with a watery smile. "You deserve them, man. You really do. Take that cute girl you work with, huh? The real pretty one with the red hair. Cop partners turned lovers, it's like the freaking Notebook but better."

Derek tried to smile. "I'm guessing you've never seen the Notebook, huh?"

"Nope. And you have?"

"Ex-girlfriend."

"And her taste in movies is the reason you broke up, I hope?"

"Possibly."

Derek and Stiles eyed each other awkwardly. Neither knew what to say.

"Can you drop me off at my friend Scott's place?"

"...Yeah. Sure. Of course."

The ride over to Scott's was more or less silent. Stiles gave Derek directions as they drove along, but beside there wasn't much conversation.

Eventually Derek's car pulled up outside Scott's driveway. Derek prayed and prayed that Stiles wouldn't get out, would change his mind and realize people fucking make mistakes and that Derek kind of loved him despite all his flaws. But God, there were so many.

And yet when his hand went to the car door, Derek's heart shattered inside.

"Thanks for the ride," Stiles said. Because thanking him for everything else might cause an emotional breakdown for both parties involved.

"No problem," Derek said.

"Listen, Derek-"

"Can I call you sometime?"

Stiles looked away, like it physically pained him to see Derek's face.

"I can't stop you," Stiles said. "But I wish you wouldn't."

Derek's heart collapsed in his chest.

"You know I care about you," Stiles said softly, sweetly. "I always will. Always. But the truth is that you're 100 times better for me than I am for you. The truth is I'm still dealing with a lot of shit right now. And I don't want you to get hurt- I couldn't fucking live with myself if you got hurt because I was selfish and I pushed us both into this to soon."

"But I-"

"And you still can't admit to yourself that I'm not a perfect little angel, can you?" Stiles said, laughing a little. His laugh was bitter, and it stung. "You know what? You're the perfect one. You just have one flaw. You know what that is?"

"I'm far from perfect, Stiles."

"Nope, you're not. You're almost perfect. Just one little flaw," Stiles said. "And that flaw is that you can only see the good in people. And before you tell me that's a good thing- it's not. You can't see the bad in people and you're always going to make excuses when people hurt you and shit all over you. And a person like you...you can't be with a person like me. I'm always going to end up hurting you. Always."

"That's not true."

Stiles just shook his head. "Listen, do me a favor, will you? Go find some perfect little girl who can do no wrong. Somebody like you. _That's_ who you belong with. Not someone like me. Not someone who's just going to fuck you up."

"Stiles!"

"Thanks for the ride man, really," Stiles said, beginning to walk away. "Sorry it was a super long drive, you're the man."

"Stiles!" Derek shouted. "Please- can I call you?"

Stiles looked over his shoulder. Somehow he had already gotten all of his bags from the back of the car, and he looked about ready to collapse under the weight of it all.

He froze momentarily, dropping a heavy looking duffel bag onto the grass.

"Right now, all I know is I need to get my shit together. I need to figure out how to deal with everything without fucking losing my shit and hurting people I care about. I need to do that, it's not just an option. And yeah- I need to deal with what Paul did to me, too. I know that. I just...I think I have to be by myself for a while. I'm not gonna put anyone in danger- you included - _myself_ included - by jumping into something too fast."

"We could just be friends for now," Derek suggested desperately.

Stiles actually _laughed_ at his suggestion. "Sorry, Derek. You and I both know that'd never work. We'd be having sex in a week."

"I'm not that kind of guy."

"But I am," Stiles said. "...See? We're two different people. And I have to go."

Stiles continued lugging his heavy bags off the lawn, giving Derek a dirty look when he offered to help.

He just need to do this alone.

Stiles was almost at Scott's door when Derek couldn't take it anymore. He should've just driven away, kept his mouth shut...but he had to say _something._

"Stiles!"

"...Derek?"

"....Can I call you?"

Stiles hesitated, his hand frozen on the doorknob.

Slowly, he turned around in Derek's direction.

"Like I said, I can't stop you," Stiles said. "I don't- I don't know what's gonna happen. I need time."

"Oh- Okay. I get that," Derek said stupidly.

"Thank you, Derek," Stiles said, his voice quaking in the strangest of ways.

"Stiles-"

"Thank you. So much."

And just like that, the door closed shut and Stiles was gone.

Derek sank down into the car seat.

He didn't know what to think, what to do.

On some level, he knew this was for the best.

Stiles was right. He had a violent past, he had _broken his boyfriend's nose_. If Stiles tried to hurt him, Derek would never fight back, he knew that. He would always view Stiles as some kind of perfect, gentle person- and what a fucking lie that was. He was right, God, he was actually right. Starting a relationship with Stiles would be like poison- toxic and inescapable.

And yet, as he sat there in his car, the one thing he knew with absolute certainty was there was absolutely nothing that he wanted more.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So here's the last chapter  
> Thanks to everyone who's read this far!   
> I hope you've all enjoyed the story, and I'd love to hear what you think in the comments!   
> Thanks again and I hope you enjoy the ending :)

 

**DH - Hey. How are you doing?**

 

**SS - Good. How about you?**

 

**DH - Good**

 

**DH - Not good.**

 

**DH - I miss you.**

 

Stiles must have shut his phone off. Maybe he went to bed early. Yeah.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**DH - Hey**

 

**SS - Hey.**

 

**DH - I used those plane tickets you gave me. Went to Hawaii with my partner like you told me to.**

 

**SS - I bet it was no Germany**

 

**DH - Much better than Germany**

 

**SS - I doubt that**

 

**DH - You're right. Germany would've been better**

 

**SS - Told you**

 

**DH - Because in Germany you would've been with me**

 

**DH - I tried to make it work with Lydia. We dated for a while. It was okay, but it didn't work.**

 

**DH - I just wanted it to be you.**

 

Stiles phone must not be working again. He really should get that thing fixed.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**DH - Hey**

 

**SS - Hey**

 

**DH- I saw your name in the University newsletter. You got an internship?**

 

**SS - Yeah. At some property management firm down the street from Scott's place. Exciting, I know.**

 

**DH - That's great, Stiles**

 

**SS - I guess**

 

**DH - It really is. You're doing great.**

 

**SS - I haven't talked to Paul since that night, you know**

 

**DH - That's great, Stiles**

 

**SS - And I haven't been seeing anyone else, either**

 

**DH - Good for you**

 

**SS - Yeah. I haven't been single in years. It's weird, but I kinda like it. No assholes telling you what to do.**

 

**DH - Not everyone you go out with is gonna be a jackass, Stiles**

 

**DH - There are some good people out there**

 

**DH - But I'm glad you're single for now**

 

**DH - You shouldn't go out with anyone until you find someone amazing. Someone who is lucky enough to deserve you. Someone who's good enough for you.**

 

**DH - I'm not sure that person even exists.**

 

Stiles must've lost his phone again. He really had to stop doing that.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**DH - Hey**

 

**SS - Hey Derek**

 

**DH - How are you doing?**

 

**SS - Why are you doing this?**

 

**DH - What are you talking about?**

 

**SS - You don't have to text me every other week and check up on me or whatever. I'm doing fine. Great, actually.**

 

**DH - I know that. You know it makes me feel better, though.**

 

**DH - I like to make sure you're okay.**

 

**SS - Well I don't care. Stop it.**

 

**DH - If you're asking me to stop caring about you, that's never gonna happen.**

 

**DH - Whether you like it or not, Stiles, I'm always going to be there for you.**

 

Stiles really should call his phone company. This was becoming outrageous.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**SS - I have a question for you**

 

**DH - Okay, shoot**

 

**SS - Never mind. Two questions.**

 

**DH - Go ahead.**

 

**SS - Things really didn't work out with the hot redhead?**

 

**DH - She's not you.**

 

**SS - That didn't answer my question**

 

**DH - I think it did.**

 

**SS - Next question.**

 

**DH - Okay. What is it?**

 

**SS - If you could go anywhere in the world right now, and I mean anywhere, where would you go?**

 

**DH - Germany.**

 

**SS - Not Hawaii?**

 

**DH - I hear it's highly over-rated.**

 

**DH - Germany or nowhere, Stiles. Germany or nowhere.**

 

Stiles...Stiles didn't answer.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**SS - I was wrong**

 

**DH - What?**

 

**SS - It was actually three questions.**

 

**DH - Okay. I'm listening.**

 

**SS - You believe in God?**

 

**DH - I do**

 

**SS - And Heaven and Hell and all that**

 

**DH - Yeah**

 

**SS - Where do you think I'm going, huh?**

 

**DH - Stiles...**

 

**SS - No, really. Does someone like me even deserve forgiveness?**

 

**SS - I've hurt Paul so many times, Derek.**

 

**SS - Maybe I deserve what I'm getting.**

 

**DH - What do you mean? I thought things were going well?**

 

**SS - Some things are.**

 

**SS - But not this.**

 

**SS - I can't take this anymore.**

 

**DH - What? What is it?**

 

**SS - I can't do this.**

 

**SS - I can't keep talking to you knowing I'll never have you.**

 

**SS - I don't deserve you, Derek, and I never will.**

 

**SS -You're a fucking angel, and I'm going to Hell**

 

**SS - Please, for the love of God, Derek. Go find some nice girl who's good to you and leave me the Hell alone.**

 

**DH - Is that what you want?**

 

**SS - Please don't ask me that.**

 

**SS - Please, just stop. Don't make this any harder then it has to be.**

 

**SS - I'm sorry**

 

Derek must have finally got the message.

It didn't mean Stiles cried any less.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**DH - I have a question for you.**

 

**DH - Stiles?**

 

**DH - Stiles?**

 

**SS - Don't do this to me, Derek**

 

**DH - Did I ever tell you the time I broke my best friend's jaw?**

 

**SS - What???**

 

**DH - Yup. In high school. He started going out with this girl who dumped me over the phone. Didn't even ask if I was okay with it.**

 

**SS - What an asshole**

 

**DH - That doesn't excuse what I did.**

 

**DH - I broke his jaw. He had to have his jaw wired shut. Couldn't eat solid food for weeks.**

 

**SS - Holy shit**

 

**SS - Why are you telling me this?**

 

**DH - Because I think you have the wrong idea about me, Stiles. And that's mostly my fault.**

 

**DH - I let you believe that I was some perfect person when I'm so far from even being close to perfect. Not even close**

 

**DH - And it's because I never opened up to you. You were so honest with me, you let me see your flaws and you showed me the real you. I hid myself. I only let you see the good parts of me. I was so focused on getting you to like me that I tried to act perfect. But you know what, Stiles? No one's perfect. And who would want to be with a perfect person anyway?**

 

**SS - A lot of people**

 

**DH - That's not true, Stiles. We all have flaws. That's beautiful, that's what makes us human. The way I see it, we're all equally flawed. Love isn't finding the perfect person. It's about finding that person who's fucked up in the same ways we are, or someone who compliments us with theirs. Someone who can make up for the things we lack. Someone who can fill in our empty spaces and be what we were missing.**

 

**DH - I'm sorry I was never open with you, Stiles, but you have to know that I'm not any better than you. I have problems, too. So many. So don't ever think you don't deserve me, or I'm gonna fuck you up. I'm already fucked up, Stiles. Believe me I am.**

 

**SS - You're fucked up? Yeah, right. What the Hell is wrong with you, anyway? Too nice? Donate too much to charity? Save too many kittens stuck in trees? Yeah, okay.**

 

**DH - I'm telling you the truth, Stiles. If I was more open with you, you'd be able to see that.**

 

**DH - And I'd like to be more open with you. If you'd give me a chance.**

 

The next message came a day later.

 

**SS - Goodbye Derek.**

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

  **SS - Hey**

 

**SS - Hey**

 

**SS - Derek?**

 

**DH - Stiles?**

 

**DH - This probably isn't a good idea**

 

**DH - I've been trying to move on. Like you told me to.**

 

**SS - And how's that working for you?**

 

**DH - About as good as I expected.**

 

**SS - That bad, huh?**

 

**DH - I'm trying.**

 

**SS - I know.**

 

**SS - Listen. I need you to do me a favor, okay?**

 

**DH - Of course, Stiles. Anything.**

 

**SS - Okay. Come outside.**

 

**DH - What??**

 

**SS - Just do it**

 

Derek put down his phone and walked over toward the window. Sure enough, there was a gray car in his driveway.

Derek practically sprinted to the door.

On the other side was Stiles, staring right at him with wide eyes. Beautiful eyes.

Derek's heart started pounding in his chest. He felt like throwing up, he felt like flying. He felt a lot of things.

"You look good," he spat out a little too quickly.

And it was true. Stiles' dark hair was combed back, and he was wearing glasses and a bright blue sweater. Derek didn't usually go for the bookish, glasses-wearing, dorky look, but on Stiles...well, everything looked good on Stiles. It wasn't fair.

"So do you," Stiles said, a little awkwardly. After he had finished staring, it seemed like he wasn't quite sure where he should be looking, his eyes darting around like crazy. Finally, he settled on staring at the ground.

"Listen," Stiles began, taking a deep breath. "...Okay. So I'm just gonna come out with it. I still have no idea why you'd ever wanna be with a guy like me. I have no idea why you'd wanna take a risk like that. But I've been working on my anger and my temper and I'm getting better, Derek, I really am. Every day away from Paul and I can feel it. And I know I still have a lot of shit to get through with my anger, but I know in my soul, in my fucking heart I know I'd never, _never_ hurt you. Not you, never you. I just know it. So if you still, you know...if you're still interested in me...I'm not going to stop you. I can't stop thinking about you Derek. If you still feel the same way then I-"

Stiles stopped speaking when Derek put a hand on his shoulder. Even such a small gesture still sent a spark through him.

"I've never stopped caring for you, Stiles," Derek said. "You- you do have a past. You have some baggage. A lot of baggage. I get that. But so do I, and so does everybody else. You're not perfect, Stiles. You're not even close. All I know is that I'm happy when I'm with you. All I want is to be with you."

Stiles' eyes were glistening. He never thought he'd hear those words again, never in a million years.

"We can go slow," Stiles said, eyeing Derek nervously.

"I think that would be good for both of us," Derek said. "For now, I just want to be there for you."

And with that Stiles almost started bawling, because those were the most perfect words he could've said and he really didn't deserve it.

Instead, he just smiled and held out his hand.

"Take a drive with me?"

Derek just looked at him for a moment before giving him the most genuine smile Stiles' had ever seen.

He didn't even have to say yes.

All he had to do was put his hand in Stiles' hand, and Stiles knew from that moment forward he would never be alone.

Derek would always be there.

And maybe that was all he ever really needed.

 


End file.
